


Rejuvenation

by OwlEspresso



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Creampie, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Marathon Sex, Oil, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 22:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlEspresso/pseuds/OwlEspresso
Summary: “Are you sure this’ll work?”The canopy of the forest is a rotted, purple and brown sky. Vivid greens are now dull reminders of what Savalierwood used to be. Its trees are gnarled, bark twisted and greyed and splintered. It’s eerily quiet. No small creatures scuttle in the brush, no birds chirp and sing. You wish you could see what this place looked like before the life began to bleed from it. Maybe you’ll find out.





	Rejuvenation

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to DarthSuki for helping me come up with ideas! He's a great writer and you should definitely check his stuff out!
> 
> If you like this make sure to take a peek at my writing blog, [HERE](https://owlespresso.tumblr.com/).

“Are you sure this’ll work?”

The canopy of the forest is a rotted, purple and brown sky. Vivid greens are now dull reminders of what Savalierwood used to be. Its trees are gnarled, bark twisted and greyed and splintered. It’s eerily quiet. No small creatures scuttle in the brush, no birds chirp and sing. You wish you could see what this place looked like before the life began to bleed from it. Maybe you’ll find out.

“We’ll find out,” Caduceus rumbles. He echoes your thoughts and the sight of him, so very close, reassures you. He’s a vivid strike of color among your decepit surroundings, a welcoming sight, nestled with you in the browned, dead grass. There’s no one else here but the two of you, and you find solace in it, even with this weird sex ritual you’ve decided to help him with.

When he’d come to ask you about it, he’d been understandably sheepish. His knuckles rapped gently against the wood of the door and he leaned against the frame. His gaze glued on the wood plank floor, his smile the shyest you’d ever seen him wear. The flutter of his eyelashes when he finally looked up at you made your heart stutters.

There’d been no chance of saying “no”, especially not now. Not when his large, warm hands are resting on your hips, the size making you swallow in pure awe, maybe trepidation. The texture of his soft fur against your skin is a stark contrast to the chilled air. You brace your hands against his shoulders and he shifts with a little “hold on” to warn you. He brings you further into the spell circle of sticks and twigs and flowers he’s artfully arranged around you both.

“Okay,” You murmur, jolting when his still-clothed cock bumps against your clothed cunt. God, he’s huge. You wonder if you’re going to be able to take all of that—and the thought makes want throb deep inside. “I… I guess we should start,” One of your hands cups his cheek, thumb brushing against the fur. He looks at you with an innocent, eager kind of curiosity.

“Okay,” He echoes and his forehead presses against yours. The gesture is surprisingly intimate, and soothing.

You can make out each, individual eyelash, a mere piece of the gorgeous, grand ensemble that makes up his entire being. His head tilts forward and his lips press against yours. The contact is curious, explorative, while his hands roam up your sides, sending goosebumps over your skin at the juxtaposition between temperatures.

The tickle of the cool grass against your bare knees adds to the pile of sensations and the stretch of the darkened trunks feels like a safety net more than anything. The moment is private, yet wide open.

The kiss is slow and lasting, and it takes him a moment to tilt his head to get a better angle. The broad of his tongue rasps against your lips and his audacity makes you gasp. His tongue hovers hesitantly between your mouths and only moves when you caress his tongue with your own.

An appreciative hum rumbles in the back of her throat. His roaming left hand ceases its investigative path to wrap around your back, tugging you into his body. Your chests press tight together, the tufts of his pink hair teasing your perked nipples.

You suck in a deep breath and arch your back just as a need for air forces him to part from your lips. You gasp and pant, as exhilaration throbs like a heartbeat in your cunt and _shit_ —you’re already wet.

He trails kisses along your jawline, his affection sluggish and experimental.

“You smell really nice,” He sighs, voice dripping low with want, warm breath pressing into your skin. His teeth experimentally scrape over your neck and you let a whine slip out. _Let him know how good you feel. This is his first time. He’s probably nervous._

The noise makes him still, before he continues a gentle path down to your chest.

—And then you start to see it. Brilliant, gold sparks of energy that pulse from your skin where his lips had been and vanish into the air. Your eyes widen and your grip on him tightens.

“Is it supposed to do that?” You ask, voice an urgent whisper.

“Mhm, I think so,” He says, tongue rasping over your collarbone. The wetness left behind immediately chills against the air and makes goosebumps rise, “The magic is jump-started by touch, or when one of us feels good.”

“O-Okay,” You stutter when his unoccupied hand reaches up, entirely cupping your breast.

“The chrysanthemum is for life, the corianders are for virility and the oil has a bunch of things in it to make it feel nice.” He moves away from your chest when he speaks, meeting your eyes and you can tell he’s genuinely trying to relieve any worries you may be having. His unoccupied hand reaches over to one of the small clay pots he’d brought with him and nudges the top off it. Two of his long fingers dip in and pull out, now coated with something wet and slippery.

He reaches forward, slowly and rubs it against your thigh. It immediately cools—and then grows hot, causing a small dose of something hot and heavy to seep into your system. You inhale sharply and shift your hips to try and relieve the feeling, but it does nothing.

A lazy smile breaks out across his face.

“Good, right?” You don’t trust your voice to not wobble and whine, so you settle for a nod. “Good.” He again reaches into the pot and covers three fingers in it, before his hand returns to your breast.

God, his hands are fucking huge. His palm presses over your nipple. The oil slicks against your skin and makes your nub suddenly ache for attention. You arch your back as a needy cry rumbles high from your throat.

Your breath hitches and the subtle sound encourages him to rub it over the pointed nub, making you arch your back, grind your pussy into his dick and you feel it twitch—

“Does that feel nice?” He asks, looking up at you. It genuinity of it lets you know that he wants to make you feel good, wants to press you against the dirt and fuck you senseless—okay, maybe not that far.

All you can manage is a nod and he continues to play with and tease your body, adjusting his touch when he finds spots you like, spots you don’t like. It overwhelms your nerves and synapses and you just melt into him, already a puddle of goo. The hand not on your breast strokes down your spine and cups your ass, before sliding down, beginning to sneak his fingers in between your legs.

Your insides churn molten with pleasure as he lays you down among long dried up weeds and lavender weaved by his expert fingers. He doesn’t complain when you scratch your nails over his shoulders and then his back. He makes you squirm and grips your thighs tight, lapping at your slicked sweetness like it’s coveted honey lavender.

And he looks, he never stops looking, never stops watching your reactions, evaluating at every step to make sure that you’re good, you’re good, you’re good—

You fall over the cusp of your pleasure like caramel drizzled on tres leches, a sob wretched from your throat. Only the silent trees bare witness as your body writhes among the dirt, pulses of gold falling off your skin and onto the grass where it slicks and pools.

He pulls his tongue away and immediately crawls over you. He brushes any hair out of your face. The gesture, as small as it is, is touching.

His eyes are wide awake as they look you over.

“Are you good to go again?” He inquires. The hand he hadn’t finger-fucked you with strokes down your abdomen and to your hip, leaving more of what is likely that oil in his wake. You nod and after a moment, the substance settles into your skin and snaps you out of post-orgasm weariness.

“Alright. Let’s try something different this time.” He hums as he settles on his back. His shock of hair flops against his face with the motion and he has to blow it away from his face. You almost don’t move to mount him like you’ve wanted for the past twenty minutes, too caught up in the stretch of his body, the lowering of his eyelids as he gives you another one of those stupid, loopy smiles. The kind that makes your heart tighten and skip, the kind that makes you want to cover yourself with him and be infatuated with him for the rest of eternity—

The next thing you know, his hands are on your hips, guiding you down the thickness of his cock. He’s big. Your toes curl and your eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

“You’re doing great,” He praises, coaching you through the process as though he’s done it a million times before. “Just a little more, okay?”

The stretch burns and you have to pause every once in awhile, but the pleasure is mind-numbing and you want, want, want and keep wanting.

A single breath rattles from your lungs and into the open air as he finally hilts. You’re trembling.

“I can’t believe I took all of that.” You gasp, and then notice that traces of gold are rising and dissolving into the air like trails of smoke from where you’re gripping his shoulders.

His hands reach for your hips and grabs them, before lifting you up off his cock and letting you slide back down—the lewd noise of his flesh against your own coupled with knowing he has the strength to do something like that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

Your knees press against the ground to help, thighs twitching and trembling with each pass and enter of that huge cock stretching you to your limits. You’re really not sure how much time passes, but the gold smoke rising from his ashen fur only increases in amount, only at this point, you’re too blissed out to care.

“You make the nicest faces.” He praises through his panting as his pace starts to jitter and fumble. He groans deep in his chest and you know he’s almost there. Your walls tighten around him in an effort to push him over the edge and it works.

His hips jolt and stutter as hot cum fills you, leaking out onto the ground. Your voice raises in a noise caught between a sob and a cry as he keeps thrusting through it, propelling you to your second orgasm.

You feel your body begin to cry out for rest, spent after two, consecutive releases. Your thighs tremble and you give out against his body. Your face rests against his shoulder, eyes shutting—

And then there’s the searing slick of oil against your back.

Without pretense, grabs you by the shoulders and rolls with you. The forest whooshes by in a blur of browns and purples until you’re staring up at the canopy. He doesn’t even pull out of you.

More, your body cries, whittled down to mere instinct and desire. You want more, and by the gods, does he give it to you. Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him as tight as possible to you.

You don’t care about whatever your relationship was before this. You don’t care how it’ll change. All you care about is the pleasure that’s seeping over you and the runes rising in the air, divine shapes of gold that rise around in a circle and stick to your skin like clothes during rain.

Each slam of his cock inside of your feeble body spirals you further and further into insensitivity. Fat, hot tears bead in your eyes and roll down your cheeks and your hands fly to his shoulders. You don’t know if you’re trying to push him away or bring him closer. His velvety praise gives way to low groans and snarls as he fucks into you with renewed vigor, eyes glowing with something faintly not him.

Your clit bumps up against his pelvis with every thrust and your eyes clench tight. He’s too fucking big to not hit every little place inside you that makes you a feeble mess.

Your body feels overheated and is pushed to the brink with each passing moment.

The runes and the dimness of the forest and the molasses sweet sound of his voice fold around you like a cocoon until you cum in unison. Your cries bounce of the stumps and trunks and barren branches, your mixed essences leaking out onto the still-dry dirt. You force yourself to keep your eyes open so you can watch the shut of his eyes and the curl of his lips as he growls deep and dark.

He lays you down and time stops passing. It’s only an obscene smattering of pleasure, cum and “Caduceus, Caduceus, Caduceus~” until reality reforms. Your body is effectively jelly, limbs splayed out where he left them.

He’d shifted between gentle and violent, a turbulence that definitely surprised you and knocked the breath out of you more than once. But it was good.

...And you’ll probably pay for it tomorrow. Your eyes flutter shut, breath finally beginning to even.

In between all the fucking, you know plumes of gold rolled off your skin and into the air, and only now are you curious as to what that does.

One of Caduceus’s arms, warm and furry is thrown over your torso. The soft sound of his breathing nearly lulls you to sleep—but he shifts. The grass crinkles and crunches under him as he pulls himself into a sitting position, pink eyes wide as he leans over you. His movements are frantic and hurried, lips curled and eyebrows furrowed into a concerned expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” A small smile crawls across your lips and you reach a hand up. The muscles in your arms protest and wobble as you reach your fingers on his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eye. “It was really good, Caduceus.” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper, fatigue already pulling at your body, urging you to sleep.

“Okay,” He replies, “You can go to sleep. I’ll carry you back to the house.”

His permission is all you really need to rest your head and shut your eyes. You hear the shift of the grass underneath his feet before his arms come to wrap around you. Instinctively, your eyes fly open and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. Your face presses into the crook of his shoulder and take a deep inhale. Your body unwinds and relaxes within mere moments, guided by the exhaustion that weighs you down.

When you fall asleep, you miss the way the golden runes twirl off your bodies and into the air.  
You miss the circle pulses with vibrant energy. You miss the way patches of grass begin to turn emerald green, and the small flowers that start poking out from the brush.


End file.
